The Wrong Letter of the Alphabet
by Fairusa84
Summary: When Bella moves back home she reconnects with her friend Angela. Over drinks, she tells her about the men she's dated and who tried to break her heart.


**Disclaimer: _Twilight_ and its affiliates belong to Stephenie Meyer and Summit/Lionsgate. The rest is my own concoction.**

**A/N This o/s was submitted into the Endless Hope Contest but due to lack of submissions, the contest was postponed. I will definitely consider writing something new by that time, but felt I should make this o/s available now. It is loosely based on my own dating experiences...**

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**The Wrong Letter of the Alphabet**

Walking into one of the few bars Port Angeles has to offer twenty-something college graduates, I scan the room, looking for a familiar face. Before I can make a full circuit, my name is called and I spot Angela waving me over enthusiastically.

"Bella! I'm so happy to see you!" she exclaims warmly, enveloping me in a hug.

"Me too, thanks for inviting me," I reply.

"Of course!" she waves me off, pointing to an empty chair at the table. "When your mom told my mom you were moving back I knew I had to take the chance to reconnect. I'm so sorry for not staying in touch like we promised…"

I feel what has to be the first genuine smile in probably weeks spread on my face. I have truly missed Angela, only now realizing this.

"Hey, it takes two to tango. I wasn't exactly a good pen pal either," I say in return.

And just like that, it's like we haven't spent the last seven years apart, and jump into an animated conversation of catching up.

Over the next hour and a half, and several cocktails, I learn that she has completed a degree in teaching at UW and currently teaches fifth grade at the elementary school in Port Angeles. The rock on her left ring finger tells me she is engaged, and after some probing and giggling, she tells me about her fiancé, Ben Cheney.

"Wait, you mean _the_ Ben Cheney, who lived down the street from you?"

She nods.

"The short, shy kid?"

She nods again.

"Didn't he move away after our sophomore year?"

"Actually, he graduated that year," she corrects me.

Color me stunned.

"Ben Cheney is _older_ than us?" I all but yell across the bar.

We both dissolve in a fit of giggles. After the waiter drops off another round of drinks, I have regained enough composure to enquire further.

"So, how did this happen? It's not like you hung out or anything back in Forks."

Angela goes on to tell me she ran into Ben in the library at UW – literally.

"I'm talking books flying, limbs tangling, bodies crashing to the floor…" she laughs. "It was a mess. But he was so adorable as he tried not to look up my skirt while I was lying there. And then he offered to buy me a coffee to apologize. That was freshman year. This summer he proposed and we're getting married next May."

I envy the blissful smile and star-filled eyes of my friend, but can't deny I'm happy for her. Angela has always been a sweet girl and she deserves her fairy tale.

"I remember you dated that guy Jacob in high school," Angela changes the subject. "How did that work out?"

I chuckle.

"That relationship was pretty much doomed from the start. We were more off than on for most of it, and when I left for college it died pretty quickly."

To be honest, I'm not sure I ever felt for Jake the way a girlfriend should. Our fathers are best friends, so from an early age we were regularly thrown together, making mud pies and hanging out at the Quileute reservation where they still live. When I started growing boobs, Jake developed a crush on me, which was encouraged by our parents because of some romantic notion that we'd tie our families together. Eventually, I started to believe that we could be more than friends and agreed to be his girlfriend. We finally broke up when I moved to New York for college, while he stayed home to work in his friend's body shop.

"I still see him on occasion, you know, Fourth of July and such. He actually married Leah Clearwater a couple of years ago and they have a son now."

Truth be told, Jacob has always been more like a brother to me. The one and only time we had sex, just before I left for New York, confirmed for the both of us that we were better off that way. A small shudder runs through me at the thought of sleeping with him – not because I never loved him, but because the whole situation was too awkward.

"Yeah, high school relationships hardly ever last," Angela agrees. "At least this one didn't break your heart."

Unfortunately for me, many more tried, and some almost succeeded.

I've always tried to be honest in my relationships, hoping that karma would work in my favor. In the end, I'm the one who has to spend the rest of my life with me, so what's the point in trying to change who I am just so someone temporary will like me better? At least, that's what I've learned through trial and error.

Of course, there was the slightly awkward guy I ended up dating for a few weeks at the start of my freshman year of college because his very cute friend – of the tall, dark and muscular variety – hooked up with my roommate – of the tall, blonde and statuesque variety – and it would be rude to dump him straight away simply because I initially preferred said friend. What can I say – I'm a pleaser who disguises as a teaser.

Karma got back at me, as was to be expected, with a slew of bad dates and guys stringing me along.

There was the blind date who turned out to be almost a head shorter than me, which is an accomplishment on its own, and who felt the need to compensate for that with flashy clothes and pictures of his muscle car back home.

"How on earth did that happen?" Angela questions, and I can only shrug.

"Beats me. The girl who set us up swore he would be perfect for me."

"Clearly she didn't know you very well if she thought you'd value that."

"Yeah, it's safe to say that friendship didn't last," I laugh.

After that, I hooked up with a guy who was pledging one of the fraternities. We had fun, and I felt we were really hitting it off, but he always came up with some sort of excuse to get out of any social gatherings where he could be seen with me. I gave him the benefit of the doubt for a while, but eventually I grew tired of his evasive behavior. The proverbial straw was when his entire frat house had assembled in the entryway to greet me with applause and cat calls after our last night together.

"They managed to turn my departure into a walk of shame," I fume, the alcohol in my system allowing me to feel some residual anger.

"That must have been so embarrassing," Angela sympathizes.

"Actually, I was more angry than embarrassed. Still am. I just turned right back around into his room, leaving the door open for the audience, and dumped him. Then when I left, I made sure to 'accidentally' drag the sheet off, exposing his tiny dick."

Angela raises her glass in a toast to that and we order another round before I continue.

Early on in my sophomore year I ended up randomly watching a movie with a quiet, slightly nerdy guy I had seen around campus before. We were the only two people in the audience of an art house screening, which surprised me.

Jasper, although a bit on the geeky side, was also a frat boy, and those weren't exactly known for having high cultural standards. My previous experience had also made me leery of them. He was on a scholarship, though, and worked hard to maintain his grades so as to keep it. Joining the fraternity was an added opportunity.

After the movie he shyly invited me for coffee, and pretty soon we were practically inseparable. He swept me off my feet with sweet and chivalrous gestures and his initial adoration of me. In return I took him shopping in Tribeca and made an effort to replace his ill-fitting clothes with a more current wardrobe-on-a-budget. The shy history nerd turned into a chick magnet, especially once his shaggy blond hair was cropped shorter and he traded in his thick glasses for contacts.

"He was a military brat from Texas," I explain to Angela. "But he spent most of high school at Camp Pendleton. He was pretty much the polar opposite of Jacob: a bit on the scrawny side, but still toned. Blond, blue eyes. And I actually felt a physical attraction. I'd never had that with a boyfriend; it was either 'because everyone was doing it' and 'it was expected' or just scratching an itch."

Angela smiles at me in understanding.

"Of course I can't speak from experience," she says. "But I kind of get it. You wanted to take part in the whole 'college experience' and for most people, that includes random hook-ups."

Glad she's not judging me for my slightly promiscuous behavior – and I haven't even scratched the surface yet at this point – I continue.

Jasper came home with me over winter break, and I joined him in Southern California during Spring Break, visiting his family. For some reason, he started pulling away after that, and we broke up not long after. To say I was upset would be an understatement, and I couldn't wait for finals to be over so I could go home.

"I remember that summer," Angela chimes in. "You were even quieter than you used to be, but you didn't want to talk about it."

"To be honest I just wanted to forget about the whole thing, so I made it a point to ignore it. Not that it helped…"

He was still distant the first few times we ran into each other when school started again. After a while I got sick of it and confronted him with his behavior, figuring it would be stupid to pretend to avoid each other when we were bound to run into each other on a regular basis. It took some persuading, but eventually he said he had fallen in love with a girl back home. I didn't think anything of it, until he admitted he had been drawn to her since meeting her during Spring Break. When realization hit, I was speechless. Slowly, random things from those last few weeks began to make sense, like how we hadn't spent the night together since, and he was always texting furiously.

"That jerk!" Angela exclaims. "He was stringing you along?"

"Well, he assured me he hadn't acted on his growing feelings for her until after we had broken up, and I believed him. There was no reason not to."

A few days later he showed up at my dorm room, a sullen look on his face. He crashed onto my couch and launched into a lamenting apology for his unexpected visit.

"I feel like such an ass! I broke up with you because of her, and then she dumps me like it's no big deal, like this summer meant nothing to her! I was a fool to let you go. Will you please forgive me?"

Still stupidly in love with him – he was my first grown-up boyfriend, after all – I didn't think and happily took him back.

"Oh, Bella…"

"Come on, Ang, I was barely twenty. What did I know?"

Over the next month or two I referred to him, to the few friends I had, as my boyfriend again. In reality, we barely hung out in public, Jasper claiming a busy schedule, and when we did venture out of my room he was careful to avoid any PDA.

That, combined with my previous similar experience, should have been my first clue.

The second should have been the fact that we always hung out in my room, never his. At the time he explained it by saying he lived in a frat house and didn't want to subject me to the scrutiny.

Eventually, I was harshly presented with reality when I spontaneously dropped by his room one morning early December and was greeted by a petite, perky, dark-haired girl, wearing my boyfriend's shirt.

"No!" comes Angela's shocked response.

"Oh, it gets better. It wasn't just his shirt, but a shirt I had recently bought for him."

The girl's face fell when she saw me.

"Oh, hi, Bella, right?"

I could only nod, slow to catch on what was happening.

"We met in Cali last Spring Break, I think?"

I nodded again, this time remembering at least partially.

"Shit, this is awkward," she mumbled.

Before I could ask her what she meant, Jasper rounded the corner in the hallway, surprise evident on his face at seeing me at his door, quickly replaced with anxiety.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" he asked casually.

Too casually.

"I came by to see if you were feeling better," I started. "You said you weren't feeling well and I didn't hear from you all weekend…" I trailed off.

Looking between the two of them, and seeing the girl looking from me to him and back, finally the pieces started to come together.

"But I'm starting to suspect you weren't sick at all, were you?"

I could have felt sorry for the girl, especially when she asked him tearfully why I was there if we had broken up in May, but thankfully I was spared the humiliation of crying in front of him. Instead, fury took hold of me, and before I knew it, I slapped him in the face before storming off.

"I later learned they had only briefly broken up before, but he had kept on sleeping with me after they had gotten back together," I finish that particular story.

I only wallowed in self pity for a little while before resolving not to let a guy gain that much control over me again. Not wanting to deal with questions and well-intended advice from my family at the time, I took up my roommate Rosalie's offer of coming to Rochester with her for the holidays. It proved to be a much needed change of scenery.

"Imagine being surrounded by all these rich kids, whose closest experience to camping is a bonfire at the country club," I laugh, remembering the initial culture shock.

"They must have thought you were so courageous!" Angela chimes in.

"Pretty much. I got to impress them with my mad outdoorsy skills."

Of course, there had been some of the standard-issue snobs, but they hadn't dared to treat me badly. Rosalie's demanding presence made sure of that. The attention I got from some of the guys was a welcome change, though. With Jasper, I had been all too willing to adjust my plans and needs to his, and I realized in hindsight I had become more demure during my time with him. Rosalie's friends showed more genuine interest in me, wanting to know what it was like to grow up in a small, middle-class town. Rosalie encouraged me, her only warning concerning her ex and his direct group of friends. So I went on a few dates and enjoyed the upper-class treatment.

"So, what happened with Jasper and that girl? Did she dump his sorry ass?" Angela asks, and I snort in response.

"You'd think, right? Well, I have it on good authority that she did make a scene of epic proportions and took the first available flight home. But he followed her back, crying and begging, and over winter break he transferred to UCSD. Haven't heard from him since."

"Well, good riddance," Angela says decidedly, then reaches for my hand. "I'm glad you had at least one good friend over there."

When she excuses herself to use the bathroom, I take the opportunity to send a quick text to Rosalie. I haven't seen her since I left New York, so a visit soon would be nice.

When I returned to school I was determined to not let some guy define my worth. I rebounded with vigor, frequently going to college parties and accepting dates whenever I felt like it. I was guarded and didn't let anyone get close enough to potentially hurt me the way Jasper had done. I was honest with them, though, and made it clear I wasn't looking for anything serious. And I always practiced safe sex.

"Living with Rosalie was very helpful in that respect, " I explain. "She eventually told me what had happened with her ex. It was horrible. But she survived and came out of it stronger. And she helped me protect myself, while also encouraging me to enjoy everything the city and school had to offer."

I briefly worry if Angela will think less of me now, knowing about my promiscuous behavior. Chancing a look at her over my drink eases my worries, though. There is nothing there but acceptance and understanding. And alcohol. Lots of it.

When Rosalie moved to an off-campus apartment with her boyfriend, I requested a private room in one of the senior dorms. After their housewarming party I was walking the short distance to the nearest subway station.

"It had been raining most of the day, making the sidewalk incredibly slick," I try to paint the picture. "And you know me; I can trip on a smooth surface, so I was just trying to stay upright."

Angela motions for me to continue, already smiling at my story, when I see two men approaching behind her. One of them is about my height, with short-cropped dark hair and black glasses. He walks up to Angela, resting a hand on her shoulder.

"Ben, hi sweetie!" she exclaims exuberantly.

"Enjoying the cocktails, I see?" he asks, a smile on his face.

"Just a little," she confirms. "Hey, do you remember Bella Swan?"

Ben turns to me, extending a hand in greeting.

"The name rings a bell, but I can't say I ever had the pleasure of meeting you. How are you?" he asks.

We exchange some pleasantries as he pulls up a chair and Angela flags over a waiter to order more drinks. Ben decides snacks would be a wise move, and adds an order of fries and nachos to the tab. That taken care of, he motions to the man who arrived with him.

"Bella, do you remember Edward Cullen?"

The guy looks vaguely familiar, but years and cocktails make me unable to pinpoint how I should know him. At my confused look, Ben elaborates.

"He moved to Forks at the end of our junior year. You were freshmen back then."

"And Ben here was one of the few people who wasn't put off by my shaggy hair, baggy clothes and general geekiness," Edward laughs as he moves to shake my hand.

Our eyes lock and it takes me a moment to regain my composure. His eyes are just so _green_ and vibrant. I feel like he can look straight into my soul and I'm not sure whether to be scared by that or not. I settle for flustered for now – flustered and tipsy.

"It helps that Ben was quite the geek himself," Angela interjects, pulling me from my inner musings.

"Hey, it got me a full scholarship, thank you very much," he defends half-heartedly.

"I know, baby, and you're my sexy little nerd," Angela concedes teasingly. "But Bella was just telling a story about trying not to trip on a rainy New York night."

I try to steer the conversation away from me, not wanting to monopolize the attention, but Angela is having none of it. Eventually, the guys become curious as well and I'm outnumbered, so I continue.

"Okay, so I was trying to make it to the subway station in one piece, when one of Emmett – that's Rosalie's boyfriend – one of his friends ran over to me, trying to catch up. Turns out, he was quite the klutz himself, and he slipped in a puddle. So he ended up tackling me and we landed in the next puddle, which happened to be a lot deeper, so we both got soaked."

This leaves our entire table in hysterics for a few minutes, and I'm only mildly embarrassed at sharing this with Edward. Although I barely know him, I must acknowledge an already pretty intense attraction. Thankfully, I do get the impression he is laughing with me instead of at me.

"So why did he follow you in the first place?"

Angela is still the one asking the questions, but I can see the guys are curious as well, leaning forward in their seats. I wonder if they're just being polite, or if my stories really are that interesting.

"Well, he said he wanted to get my number."

"Why didn't he just ask your friend?"

"That's what I told him, too, but he said he wanted to get it from me. Something about him wanting to know I wanted him to have my number, instead of just getting it from someone else."

"Makes sense," Edward says. "I'd prefer that too."

I pause to look at him once more, only to find his eyes already trained on me. The intensity of his stare momentarily distracts me from my train of thought.

"Anyway, what happened next?" Ben pulls me back to the present.

I blink and shake my head slightly to clear it from the fog I just found myself in. I'm a little surprised to see Edward trying to refocus as well. He can't be nearly as drunk as I am, can he?

"Since we were both kind of soaked and he happened to live close by, he offered to let me borrow some dry clothes." Ignoring the knowing looks being exchanged, I clarify. "Nothing happened that night –"

"_That night!_" Angela howls. "So that means something did happen another night, right?"

"Well, he did have to get his clothes back, didn't he?" I wink.

Jared was just what I needed at the time: fun, sexy, and uncomplicated. He wasn't looking for anything serious so didn't mind that I was guarded. It didn't hurt that the sex was phenomenal, although I'm hesitant to go too much into detail, with Ben and Edward there.

"Oh, come on, Bella," Angela begs. "You've got me curious now!"

I relent somewhat and offer her a peek.

"Well, suffice it to say that he was rather dominant and I thoroughly enjoyed that."

"You mean like BDSM?" she asks.

"No! I mean like, he liked to be in charge and had some nice tricks up his sleeve."

The guys nod in understanding at my clarification.

In all honesty, I do think Jared was the guy who helped me open up about sex. Before him, I was just going through the motions and going with whatever the guy in question wanted to do. Don't get me wrong, it was always at least pleasant, sometimes even good, but never more than that. With Jared, I learned some particular things I myself enjoyed, and how to get them.

"We were never official, but we were exclusive, and that arrangement was very liberating," I finally say. "But eventually it had to end one way or another. I was starting to develop feelings for him, and I got the impression he was also feeling more for me than what we both intended."

"Then why not try to make it more?" Ben asks.

"Because it wouldn't work. We wanted different things in life. So instead of letting it fizzle out and having the last few weeks be tainted with repressed feelings, I used an upcoming traineeship for my graduation as an excuse to end it."

I also use the end of that particular story to excuse myself to use the restroom. Like the rest of the bar, the restrooms are an eclectic mix of concert posters, subdued lighting, mirrors and inspirational quotes. I take a minute to read a few of them.

When I join the table again, new drinks and snacks have been ordered. My hope that someone else will monopolize the conversation is in vain, though.

"So, Bella," Ben starts. "How did your traineeship go?"

"Pretty well. They offered me a starter job upon graduation."

"And you didn't take it?" Edward asks.

"I told them I needed to think about it. Accepting a job like that straight out of college basically means settling down in the city for the foreseeable future. I wasn't sure if I was ready for that."

"What made you turn them down?" Angela asks. At Ben's look, she adds, "What? She's here, isn't she? That means she must've turned them down."

"I did," I confirm. "I wasn't sure what I wanted, but I knew it was time to leave New York. It was also around that time I met James."

"Another J…" Angela muses, causing Edward to look at her with curiosity.

I also notice his face falls a little, but before I can think of the implications, Angela urges me to continue.

"He was in New York for a few weeks on business and I met him on several occasions, you know, lunch, drinks, stuff like that. Eventually he made a move and managed to charm me."

I struggle to keep the venom out of my tone at remembering his manipulative ways. I still don't know, nor understand, why he did what he did.

"We ended up having a pretty intense one-night-stand the night before his flight home. I was prepared to leave it at that, but the next morning he asked for my number. He texted me incessantly, flirting relentlessly, and after a while I thought I was falling in love with him. He knew I was undecided about what to do after graduation, so he suggested I come stay with him for a while. He lives in Vegas, so there would be plenty of job opportunities there, and it wouldn't be as expensive as staying in New York without a job."

"Tell me you didn't do that," Angela asks urgently.

"Oh, but I did. I packed up my stuff, sent some of it to my parents and sold everything I didn't want to keep. My parents were sick with worry, of course, but I was stupidly convinced I should be independent, so I declined their offer of coming home or loaning me some money until I knew what I wanted to do. Instead I bought a one-way ticket to Las Vegas."

The first few days were everything I thought it would be. James and I barely left his bedroom, and he really made an effort to get me settled in. But after a week or two he started working late more often than not, leaving me to my own devices. Being new to town and without any friends of my own meant I was pretty isolated. I didn't have enough money to buy a car, and James didn't really like me going into town on my own.

After weeks of that I was sick of it, and took a cab into town. I didn't know exactly where he worked, but asked the driver to take me to a restaurant we had been to a few times when I had just gotten into town.

That's when I saw her.

Busty, with flaming red curls cascading down her back, wearing a flimsy dress that I wouldn't even consider wearing as lingerie. She was draped across his lap, her tongue down his throat and his hand up her skirt.

When I recovered from my initial shock, I got back into the waiting cab and told him to take me back to James' apartment. I called Rosalie, who let out some pretty colorful language at hearing what had happened, then helped me hack into his computer, where I found pictures of them together dating back years. This wasn't a new development.

"Bella, you can't stay there," Rosalie reasoned.

"I know."

"You need to leave now."

"I know."

"Do you need help? Do you think you'll be safe?"

"Actually…" I hesitated.

"What is it, sweetie?"

"I don't have enough money to go anywhere," I admitted.

"Don't worry about it. Where do you want to go? Do you want to come here?"

"I… I think… I'd like to go home. To Forks," I specified.

"Alright. You go and pack a bag, take a cab, and call me when you get to the airport."

"Rosalie got me a ticket on the first available flight to Seattle and booked me into a hotel there. She also called my parents, and they came to pick me up the next day," I conclude. "And that brings me here."

"What an asshole!" Edward exclaims angrily. "Wait till I get my hands on him…"

I'm surprised by his strong emotions, but chalk it up to good manners and beer.

Ben looks at me concerned and asks if there are any legal options for me to get some compensation. There aren't, because we weren't married, and I was a consenting adult. I assure them all that I am fine and just need some time to get back on my feet.

"Well, I for one am glad you moved back here," Angela says, smiling. "Even though it must suck living with your parents after so many years on your own, at least you're on familiar grounds. And I'm sure we'll all keep our eyes open for job opportunities for you."

After thanking her for that, and assuring everyone once more that I truly am okay, the conversation moves to more neutral topics.

Before I know it, the DJ calls out last round and we prepare to leave.

"Can I drive you home?" Edward offers while Ben settles the tab and Angela is retrieving our coats.

I start to decline, not wanting to impose, but he presses on, "It really is no trouble. I'm staying at my parents' until I find my own place again. Nasty break-up," he clarifies. "Anyway, they live in Forks, so I'd only have to walk a few blocks max. And I'm sorry, but I can't let you drive after all the cocktails you've had."

"What about your car?"

"I came here with Ben. Really, Bella, it's no trouble."

I concede, and we say good night to Angela and Ben. I dig my keys out of my purse and point out my car – well, my mom's car – in the lot. Once we're settled in, he takes off in the direction of Forks.

"Hey, Bella?" Edward's soft voice breaks the silence of the car interior.

"Yeah?" I say, turning to face him, becoming mesmerized once again by the intensity of his eyes, even in the relative darkness.

"Angela said something in the bar that had me wondering…"

He doesn't continue straight away, and it takes me a moment to realize he's waiting for me to allow him to do so, so I nod.

"When you mentioned that James guy, she said 'Another J'. What does that mean?"

I giggle a little before I explain, "It means I've dated several guys whose name start with J-A, and none of those relationships were very successful."

"Maybe you were dating the wrong letter of the alphabet," he says so lowly I'm not sure if he intends for me to hear it.

I'm tempted to ask him what he means by that, but also scared that my buzz is clouding my judgment and I might read too much into this, so I let it drop.

When we reach Forks city limits I direct him to my house.

"I didn't realize you were the police chief's daughter," he admits.

I don't bother responding because, really, what answer can I give that wouldn't be lame? So we sit in the car while he idles in front of the house. For some reason I'm reluctant to get out of the car. After several minutes Edward clears his throat.

"Uhm… can I take your number?" he asks shyly.

He seems to mistake my surprise for hesitation, because he rushes to elaborate.

"It's just, we both recently moved back here, and I feel like we hit it off this evening. I'd like to get to know you better –"

"Edward, it's fine," I interrupt him. "Just give me your phone."

I program my number, then dial it, and program his in my own phone.

"Here you go. I'd love to hang out with you sometime."

My smile is genuine, and his returning one is relieved.

Empowered by it, I boldly lean in to kiss his check. He moves, and I catch his lips instead, but I don't pull away immediately. His lips are soft and pliable, and I feel the pull towards him intensify. There's no rush, though, and no tongue. Just our lips, gently pressed together.

Eventually I sit back in my seat, pick up my purse and open the door.

"I should go in," I say.

He follows my lead, locks the car and walks around it to hand me back the keys.

"Good night, Edward," I whisper, then turn around to walk up to front steps to the house.

"Good night," he replies before I'm out of earshot.

He waits until I'm inside to walk away down the street. When I'm getting into bed, my phone vibrates with an incoming text.

_Made it home in one piece. Sleep well, Bella. I hope to see you again soon. X Edward._

My grin is wide as I read it, and I remember one of the posters I saw in the bar restroom.

_When the world says, "Give up," Hope whispers, "Try it one more time."_

Before I can chicken out, I type a reply. Now is as good a time as ever, right?

_Good to hear. Sweet dreams, Edward. Call me tomorrow. xx_


End file.
